


The Choice

by bamftastik



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:58:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamftastik/pseuds/bamftastik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda tries to reach Vision after he reverts to Ultron's programming and turns on the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choice

It was happening again.

Wanda crouched behind a blasted wall, struggling to catch her breath. All around her the compound was falling into chaos, the staff scrambling, the Avengers doing what they could to slow the destruction of their home. And above it all  _he_  floated, surveying his work.

Risking a glance, she watched the Vision stretch out a hand. He'd been the first to reach out to her after Pietro died, the first to make her feel like maybe she could belong here. But now that hand beckoned with a challenge. Thor flew at him, but the strong arms that had held her so gently ripped a tree from its roots and swung it, sending the God of Thunder sprawling. The eyes that had been so calm flared now, the gem in his forehead blazing with a beam of energy that Captain America was barely able to block in time. It was all they could do to keep him distracted, but soon they would stop holding back, soon they'd forget that he was one of them. She didn't want to think about what would happen then. Pietro was gone... and now she had lost Vizh, too.

Barton was there, shaking her by the shoulders. "Maximoff! Hey! Snap out of it!"

When she didn't respond, he crouched beside her and nocked his bow, but she shoved him before he could fire. "Don't!"

"That's not your boyfriend anymore, kid."

"It's not his fault! He was injured."

"Yeah, and it knocked loose whatever programming Ultron left behind." His expression was pained. "I'm sorry. I am. But we can't let him—"

"That won't help." She nodded to his bow.

"Maybe I can't pierce his skin, but I can take out an eye, or that gem." He moved to set his aim, but she grabbed his arm.

"No!"

"Wanda—"

"Let me." Her voice was steadier than she had expected, her gaze unwavering as she stared Barton down.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing."

She did. There was nothing left, no other choice. Nodding, she rose slowly to her feet.

Still Vision grappled with the others, swatting at Falcon and Warmachine as though they were little more than flies. The distraction wouldn't last, but a distraction wasn't what she needed. She stepped out into the open, picking her way through the debris. Romanoff had taken cover nearby. She stopped reloading long enough to watch Wanda pass, giving her a solemn nod when she caught her eye. Is this how she had felt when Dr. Banner was still with them? Wanda kept moving, raising her eyes to the sky. Whatever she was about to do, she was the only one who could.

Stretching out her arms, she rose slowly into the air.  _He_  had taught her this, had hovered with her on her first feeble attempts at flight, smiling when she stumbled into his arms. But she couldn't think about that now. The others had circled away, regrouping. For the moment, they were alone.

Vision turned to face her, eyes that had once regarded with wonder now devoid of recognition, of feeling.

"Vizh."

He tilted his head, remembering. "The Scarlet Witch."

It was the name her teammates had given her, a joke at first, for want of something better. She didn't mind it, but he had never called her that, not when they were alone. The hollowness in his voice pained her most of all. Gone were the subtle modulations, the wry amusement, the gentle reverence that she had heard whenever he whispered in her ear. It was a cold voice, the voice of a machine, all trace of humanity gone. But she could not believe that, not yet.

"You are here to stop me." Still he regarded her without expression, without even curiosity. If he truly believed that, why wasn't he moving to defend himself? Was he stalling? Hesitating? That meant something, it had to.

"You can stop  _yourself_. You can be more than what they made you. You have a choice." He had said nearly those same words to her once, but the memory was lost to him. "We both do."

He touched a finger to his temple. "You have seen my choice."

So he  _did_  remember. She had touched his mind before she knew him, before he had been whole. And she had recoiled in horror. Was that the part that ruled him now, the core of destruction that Ultron had left behind?

At his insistence, she had slipped into his mind many times since and found it changed. She took comfort in the ordered pathways, wondering at the brilliant light of the man he had become. Now he was watching her, inviting her to look again. Maybe he only meant to beat her on her own terms, to make her see again the things that had threatened to drive her to madness. But this was her chance. This was Vizh. She could not hesitate.

When she reached out, pain exploded behind her eyes, flaring with the concussive force of an atomic blast. But she had seen this before. She drew a shuddering gasp, forcing herself to breathe, to look beyond it. He was in here still, somewhere beneath the rage, beneath the pain. He was here and she would find him.

Wanda steadied herself, pushing deeper. There would be recordings of memories, experiences that could not be erased. They came to her like an echo, lost in the glare but slowly taking shape, staring back at her with her own eyes. Yes, this was it. It was faint, but some trace of the man she loved remained. The thought gave her pause. She hadn't dared speak the word, not yet, but the realization seemed to clear the space around her, bringing the deepest corners of his mind into sudden focus.

She saw herself cradled in his arms, staring up at him on the day that he had saved her, seemingly so long ago. She saw them talking late into the night, saw the first time he had sat at her bedside, taking her hand to chase away the nightmares. It all came rushing past her – the flying lessons, the time she'd taught him how to dance, the first hesitant kiss that had blossomed into something more.

They were moments she remembered, but through his eyes they were somehow clearer, more detailed. Was this how he saw her? The beauty of each scene startling, lit by a calming feeling of tenderness. It was enough to make her heart ache. And through it all she knew that  _he_  had buried them here, hidden the memories away where even he could not touch them. To others he might seem cold, even inhuman, but now she understood.

She had only to bring them to the forefront, to release this part of his mind, but when she tried pain flared again. The programming, the darkness, the rage… it was too much. What could be stronger than love?

The answer came to her. It wasn't logic that ruled, wasn't logic that had set Ultron on his path to destruction. She had sworn she would not do it again, had promised her teammates, had promised herself. Reluctantly she turned from the memories playing before her, turning from their warmth and their light. Instead she embraced the pain, searching... searching. In this state, what could he have left to fear?

Her mind burned, vertigo swelling beneath her. But she looked through his eyes, taking control. She saw them floating above the broken compound, saw the others beaten and bloodied, arguing over whether they should interfere. Then she saw him move. She saw her eyes go wide, her mouth fall slack. She saw herself look down in shock at the hand that he had thrust into her chest. His gaze locking to hers, Vision pulled his bloodied arm free, catching her as she collapsed against him. But this time she shuddered and lay still. And then she heard him scream.

Fear, despair and beneath it all... love. His mind flooded with horror, with guilt. She left it then, returning to reality, watching as he buried his face in his hands. It had been only an illusion, a glimpse of what might have been. She had not wanted to hurt him.

Realization dawned slowly and he raised his eyes, blinking in disbelief to find her floating whole and unharmed before him. "Wanda? I... I saw..." His voice was pained, thick with grief.

"I know. I'm sorry."

She should be relieved. He was himself again, but the agony in his expression made her feel as though she had truly been run through. He surveyed the ground below them, realizing what he had done, and yet his eyes returned to her, flickering down to the hand that he had wrapped around her heart.

"Vizh..." She floated closer, taking his hand in hers. "It wasn't real. You didn't..."

"This is what you saw inside my mind?"

"It's what you  _feared_. What I saw... it was..." She smiled, but he turned his face away. "I think some part of you knew what was happening to you. When you were injured, when you felt yourself losing control... you took a part of yourself, the things that were important and hid it, protected it."

Still he wouldn't meet her eyes, but his grip tightened on her hands.

" _You_  gave me a way in. And I was able to find it because I..." She swallowed. "Because I feel the same."

He did look at her then, his eye widening in disbelief. But then they strayed to the ground below them and his face fell. "I do not deserve—"

For answer, she cupped his cheek and drew his lips down her hers. His kiss was hesitant at first, but then his arms were sliding around her, crushing her to him with all the need of a man who thought he had lost everything.

When at last he pulled away, the guilt returned, but Wanda smiled up at him. "There will be time for that later. I promise. But first we have some cleaning up to do."

 

 

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